


Night Visit

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-31
Updated: 1999-12-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 17:59:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11340513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Post-ep vignette





	Night Visit

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Night Visit by Palinurus

I don't usually do post-ep vignettes, but this one begged to be written.  
Warning: S7 spoilers ahead. 

\--   
Carla (Palinurus)  


* * *

Night Visit by Palinurus   


"Hello Mulder." 

He stepped in and softly closed the door behind him. "I hope you don't mind the hour, but they told me you don't sleep anyway, and I thought you might like some company." 

He walked over to the bed and peered down at the still form. "You don't look your Christmas best, that's for sure." He leaned a little closer and added, "I heard you're conscious, though non-responsive. That seems like you. I do hope you're really there; I'd hate to find out later that I wasted my time here. That all my pearls went to the swine." He held up his left hand, showing it to Mulder, who stared at him fixedly, without blinking. "I would have brought you flowers, but I couldn't find any. Seeds also didn't seem like hospital food, and they'd be even harder to deal with. So here's some jellybeans. I seem to remember you liked those." Dropping the squeaky cellophane bag on Mulder's chest, he sat himself precariously on the bed with one buttock, and reached back slightly to touch Mulder's bare ankle. 

"Four-point restraints, huh. You must have been quite a handful. I wonder why they left your head free? Well, I guess there's not much you can bang it against here." He surveyed the scene. "You look good in cuffs, you really do. They become you." He ran his hand up to the knee, pushing back the covers a bit to get there. Then he crossed over to the other legs and followed it down to the foot. "Feels good..." he mused softly. Then, in a normal tone, "Your feet are cold, Mulder. Do you want me to cover them?" 

Mulder stared at him. 

Krycek stood up and walked to the head of the bed. He stared at Mulder's face and said softly, "Are you there, old man? Can't you blink at me or something?" 

There was no reaction. 

"Oh well," he said resignedly, straightening, "I'm pretty sure you're here anyway, just doing your old stoic act. You know what, I couldn't sleep tonight either. I counted some sheep, did some yoga, played some music, and then I thought, why not visit my old friend Mulder in hospital? I suspected you might be lonely; and it looks like I was right. So I decided to come over." He took Mulder's bound wrist in his hand, stroking it with one finger. "You know, for a defenseless man they really should guard you a bit better. You're a sitting duck. A lying duck. A wingless, paralyzed duck. I'm glad I came over to keep an eye on you." 

Mulder's gaze was on his face, but there was no hint of recognition, just a blank, empty stare. 

He stepped back to the head of the bed and looked down at Mulder's face; then he reached out and gently stroked Mulder's cheek. "What are you doing in this place?" he said softly. "You're such a fool, Mulder." He stood still for a moment, then sighed and shook his head. He picked up the bag of jellybeans and lay it on the nightstand. 

"I've come to give you a little treat. Apart from the jellybeans, I mean. I think you'll like it. Though I'll probably never know for sure." He studied the room for the first time, then walked over to the bathroom door, opened it, and flicked on the light. "Let's see... I don't suppose you know where they keep a bucket here, do you...?" He stepped back to look at Mulder, who still stared at him. "Oh, all right, I'll find something... Here! That'll do." He emerged with a kidney-shaped plastic bowl. "Now, water..." He opened both taps of the sink, checking the temperature and adjusting the flow, then filled the bowl with water. "OK. Next, a washcloth." That took some rummaging in closets, but he did find one. He picked up the bowl in his left hand, holding the cloth in his right, and slowly walked back to the bed, where he set the bowl down gently on the nightstand. 

"I doubt they'll have time to wash you properly here, and I can't see you getting permission to take a shower if they won't even let you scratch your own ass. I brought some soap..." Reaching into an inside pocket of his leather jacket, he awkwardly pulled out a little plastic vial, the purple contents shining through. "... it's lavender and sage, that sounded like it'd smell nice and still be masculine enough so you wouldn't be offended." He studied the label. "It also contains lanolin, which should be good, because nothing dries the skin so efficiently as being tied to a hospital bed. Right, Mulder?" He turned to see the effect of his words. 

Mulder was now staring at the wall just behind his head. 

Krycek poured half the contents of the vial into the bowl. "Shouldn't overdo it, it might leave a sticky residue, and I don't want to have to wipe you down again. Hmm. It smells really good." He held the bowl under Mulder's nose. "Like it?" 

Mulder blinked. 

"I knew you would." He took off his leather jacket, revealing a white T-shirt, and hung the jacket over a chair in the corner. He pushed up the short sleeve of the Mulder's hospital gown and began washing his arm, carefully avoiding the IV tube in the back of his hand. "Nice and warm, isn't it... The least I expect is the favor returned, Mulder. One day. Later." He drifted a bit near the inside of the elbow, washing the same patch several times, lost in thought. The he re-emerged, and added briskly, "Or maybe not. We'll just see, shall we?" He walked around to the other arm, and took less than half the time to wash that one. Then he went back to the bowl to rinse the cloth. 

"OK, Mulder, don't take offense, but to wash your nether end I'll have to strip you first. It doesn't take a lot of stripping, as you're probably aware. Now I can't imagine you suddenly taking offense at this, and besides I'm sure you'll understand I have not choice in the matter." He looked at Mulder's expressionless face. "Well, I guess I'll find out later if you object. I've made sure we won't be disturbed, in case you wonder." 

He moved over to the foot of the bed again and pushed up the thin blanket to Mulder's knees. "OK if I start here?" He didn't even check for a reaction this time, but went back to dip the washcloth in the water and wring it out. "Nice and soapy," he said, mostly to himself. He began washing Mulder's shin, then lifted the knee slightly and did the calf. He circled the bed to do the other leg, and commented to Mulder, "Did you even notice how the body naturally separates into bite-sized parts? It's very convenient." 

He went back to the bowl to rinse the cloth, then lifted the covers up to Mulder's waist. "No catheter. Either they have a high opinion of the size of your bladder, or they're careless slobs. Or did the esteemed Assistant Director remove it when he took you for a ride in that wheelchair? Somehow I have a hard time picturing that." He grinned to himself, then straightened his face and stroked Mulder's inner thigh with his palm. "You've taken good care of your legs," he said appreciatively. "Are you still swimming?" He slowly washed both thighs, front and back, keeping a furtive eye on Mulder's rising cock under the cloth of the gown. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He now looked at Mulder's face, but it betrayed no presence. 

Krycek went back again to rinse the cloth, then dropped the blanket on the floor and lifted the gown waist-high. He stood quietly for some time, transfixed, lost in thought. Then he looked up at Mulder's face. "You're so beautiful, Mulder. You still are beautiful." Clearing his throat, he said, "However, I'm not here to admire you, but to do you a favor. On with it." He pushed Mulder's thighs apart as far as they would go in the cuffs, and began to wash his genitals, concentrating on his task. When it was done, he bent over Mulder and pressed a kiss on the head of his cock. Then he stood straight again and looked curiously at Mulder, whose head was now turned towards the wall behind him. "Mulder?" But there was nothing. 

After rinsing the cloth again, he resumed, "I think I'll try to pull you down a bit to do your backside. I don't want to untie you, coward that I am, and there seems to be no other way." He hooked his elbow around Mulder's angled knee and pulled his body towards the foot of the bed. "Now if you'll oblige me and lift you knees a bit... Damn you, Mulder. I'm sure you're purposely ignoring me." He lifted both Mulder's knees and pushed them back, then washed his ass, awkwardly trying to hold the limp legs up. "You could be a bit more forthcoming," he grunted. "I'm doing this for you, you know." He let go of one leg and pushed the other as far back as it could go, leaning against the shin; the restraint made it a stable configuration. Slipping the cloth between Mulder's ass cheeks, he slowed down, stopped, then added quietly, "Though I won't deny I'm enjoying it too." He rubbed, very slowly, leaning into Mulder's thigh, and watched Mulder's erection grow. "Oh baby..." he whispered, standing very still. 

Then he cleared his throat and resumed, "However, I was washing you." His voice was a bit rough. He got to his feet again and continued, "I've been thinking about how to do this. I think I'll start with your back, untie those silly bows and take that summer dress off you. I promise I'll put it back on when I'm done." He grabbed Mulder's upper arm and pulled him up to a sitting position. As soon as he let go Mulder slumped back, and he grabbed him again. "Damn you, you'll really let me do all the work, won't you?" The only way he could manage was by kneeling on the bed, facing the headboard, and pushing Mulder forward with the elbow of one arm, washing his back with the other. He pulled at the bows and they came loose, revealing a back that almost caught him unprepared again; but he just took a deep breath, swallowed and went on with his work, trying not to gawk at the smooth, white skin of the shoulder blades. Then he eased Mulder back down. He was about to pull the crumpled gown away from his lap and to toss it towards the end of the bed, between Mulder's feet; but he changed his mind and instead smoothed it across Mulder's crotch. Then he dipped his soapy cloth in the water once again. 

It was as if the last stretch proved too much. Washing Mulder's chest, he slowed down almost to the point of stopping. Then he sat next to the still body, pushing it over slightly, and put his stiff arm around Mulder's shoulders, muttering, "This should be easier." And even though it was actually very awkward, he stayed there, sliding the cloth over Mulder's abdomen ineffectually. 

"I'm not getting anywhere..." he said dreamily after a while, then got up to dip the tepid cloth in the warm water again. Now he remained standing, following the pattern of Mulder's chest hair with the cloth, turning small circles around his nipples. "Mulder..." He stopped moving the cloth, looked at Mulder's expressionless face again. "I'm not..." He fell silent again, then pushed himself back from the bed and dropped the cloth into the bowl. Then he surveyed the results. "You still have a boner," he observed. "That's my cue." 

He went back to his jacket and pulled a small bottle out of another pocket, and a limp white rag that unfolded to a latex glove. Back by the bedside, he told Mulder, "I hope you don't mind the glove, but it would get messy otherwise. I'll be careful." He awkwardly put it on his left hand. Then he opened the bottle and poured some lube on his fingers. 

"Mulder." 

Again there was no flicker of a response. Mulder was staring at him again, wide empty eyes almost black. 

"It won't hurt." He pushed one knee back again, then inserted his gloved hand between Mulder's legs. He felt around a bit, then slowly, almost imperceptibly thrust further inside. 

Mulder's mouth opened slightly, but that was his only response. 

"I won't hurt you," Krycek whispered. "You're so tight... you've been neglecting yourself... oh God, I've missed you so much..." He moved his arm, his finger minutely, watching Mulder's face. "Open up for me, baby..." He stood still, watching, then bent down and deep-throated Mulder's cock. Mulder's mouth opened wider; his head fell back a bit. Then his eyes slowly closed, and his hands curled into fists inside the restraints. 

Krycek came up for air minutes later, grinning delightedly when he saw the change in Mulder's posture. "So I guess you are there," he murmured triumphantly. "I'm giving you another finger. Don't move..." He pulled back his arm, added some more lube, and slowly pushed inside with two fingers, until Mulder's back arched. "That feels good, doesn't it baby? I know you so well..." He held the fingers still for a while, then turned them and carefully began to thrust. He kissed his way along Mulder's shaft, then swallowed him up again. Between his fingers and his mouth, it lasted less than a minute until Mulder suddenly arched up, his pelvic bone hitting Krycek's chin, evoking a muffled exclamation; and ten seconds after that, Krycek let go of him and pulled his fingers out. "Well. That could have ended badly," he said lightly. "But as it is, you're intact, clean, and I must say you look a lot better, Mulder." 

He picked up the bowl, emptied it in the sink and rinsed it, then deposited the washcloth in the trash. He went back to Mulder and awkwardly tied the gown around him again. Then he picked up the blanket and covered Mulder's lower body with it, carefully pulling it over his feet and tucking it in around the restraints. Then he went back to the head of the bed for the last time. Mulder lay back, eyes still closed, lips slightly swollen. Krycek studied him for a while, then lifted his head and smoothed his spiked hair down as well as he could. "I'd have liked to wash your hair, but I couldn't figure out a way to do that..." He stroked Mulder's head. "It's pretty filthy... but it still smells good." Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to the top of Mulder's head; then he rose again. "You haven't changed much, Mulder. You've changed very little." He bent down and pressed a gentle kiss on Mulder's lips. "Bye baby. Get well soon; I can't come and wash you again." 

END  
  


Who knows how this little incident will influence Mulder's waking dream... 

"Endorse and Extend"  
http://www.squidge.org/~palinurus/   
  
  



End file.
